A Blade Honed Keen
by hijipine
Summary: As a teacher, Iruka is determined to make sure his students meet Kakashi's standards by learning his skills - starting with the Sharingan. Warnings: graphic violence, child death. Written for Team Canon, 2012 Genjutsu Wars.


**A Blade Honed Keen**

"They're hopeless."

Iruka paused, wondering what Hatake Kakashi was complaining to Gai-san about. If it was his students again... He slipped into his usual seat, cast a surreptitious listening jutsu, drained half his steaming coffee in one go and pretended to start grading papers.

Since Kakashi-sensei had been chosen to temporarily lead Kiko-san's genin team while she was on maternity leave, it seemed as though he went out of his way to downplay the abilities of Iruka's students. Dammit, the other hidden villages salivated for Konoha's phenomenal success rate recruiting and training students, especially those from the civilian population, reducing their village's reliance on the established shinobi families for the talent needed to build their army. Iruka couldn't count the number of times he'd been approached about Konoha's academy training since the great war. Each time, he'd dutifully reported the incident to Tsunade as required, to the point where she simply waved him away and told him to start drinking if it bothered him, as long as he didn't desert or betray her village.

"Kakashi, I think you're too hard on Youth's Noble Inexperience."

"Inexperience? Idiocy, you mean." The drawling, mocking voice made Iruka's blood pressure rocket. "I doubt they remember where they live once they're out of sight of the village, much less have the capability to think of a useful jutsu while they're fighting."

Iruka gripped his pen so tightly he could feel it dig deep into his palm. Asshole. How was Kakashi's team supposed to learn anything when their sensei held them in such contempt?

Apparently Gai felt the same way, because his response was uncharacteristically reproving. "It's unfair of you to expect that your students are as brilliant as you are."

"I don't expect them to be brilliant. Just to be able to remember a simple jutsu."

Iruka ground his teeth. Just because Hatake-genius-Kakashi had possessed an inhuman ability to learn jutsu quickly since he was a child – and the eidetic advantage that damned Sharingan gave him, besides – that didn't mean that anyone who didn't have his memory capabilities wasn't a good shinobi. He wouldn't be such an arrogant bastard if he had the same level of memory as everyone else...

Iruka blinked.

...Or if everyone else had the same level of memory as him.

He remembered a medical article that Tsunade had recently written and then bullied him to edit. It had covered her work after the last great war, when she had developed a technique to mold chakra in the brain, to help brain-injured fighters recover their memories.

Could that work be modified to replicate memory patterns formed by chakra?

Oh. Oh, yes. Definitely worth exploring. If he could get Tsunade-sama's help...

He smiled to himself, gathered up his papers, and left the coffee shop, ignoring the spectacle of Gai and Kakashi matching each other espresso shot for espresso shot in one of their ridiculous challenges, and instead plotted how to shake Kakashi's arrogance until he begged.

Someone collided with him, and he turned to steady the person. "Watch it."

"Sorry, Iruka-sensei." Aburame Mai beamed shyly at him, almost entirely hidden behind the sunglasses that were still too big for her face. "We were playing samurai and ninja."

"It's fine, Mai-chan." Iruka smoothed a hand over her hood. "Just watch where you're going."

"I will!" she promised, waving at him as she ran to join her friends. Iruka smiled after her.

And help his students learn more easily, of course.

~oOo~

As luck would have it, a week later Kakashi exhausted his chakra during a harrowing mission. The details were classified, but it sounded like the mission had gone utterly to shit, most likely because of some screw-up in the pre-mission intelligence gathering.

But the details weren't important. Iruka, alerted by the flurry of rumors surrounding Kakashi's students' arrival with an unconscious sensei in tow, hurried to talk to the Hokage. With Kakashi laid up in a hospital bed, he'd be ripe pickings for Iruka's plan and Tsunade-sama's experiment.

Having regained consciousness the day before, Kakashi was watching them closely. "What's going on?" He sounded bored.

Or maybe it was the drugs.

"Shut up, brat." Tsunade watched the medical read-out screen, blue splashed with irregular waves of light that pulsed in what seemed to be random patterns.

Pitying Kakashi – but only a little – Iruka explained. "I asked Tsunade-sama to help me with a jutsu that imitates your memory processes when you're using the Sharingan."

Even hidden by a mask, Kakashi's face clearly showed confusion, and a bit of what looked like alarm. "What?"

"You've been overheard saying that genin haven't sufficient recall to operate effectively in the field," Iruka said, serenely, "so I thought 'if they have Kakashi-sensei's Sharingan memory, maybe they'll do better.'"

"Besides, we need to understand the Sharingan better if those damned Uchihas keep declaring war on us," Tsunade said absently. She adjusted a dial.

"I don't remember volunteering for this," Kakashi said.

"You didn't," Tsunade replied, squinting hard at the screen.

"I expect mission pay." Kakashi scratched at an electrode taped to his temple until Tsunade slapped his hand away. "'A' rank. With a bonus for service above and beyond."

"Only if I get it, too," Iruka said, crossing his arms. "Besides, it's not like this is inconveniencing you. You're already in the hospital."

"I'll authorize a research grant for you, Iruka-sensei," Tsunade said over Kakashi's snort. "And no, brat, you're not receiving money for this. Consider it part of your duty to the village."

"And thus the virgin was sacrificed to the greater good," Kakashi drawled. "How come he gets money and I don't?"

"Because he's working. For the last time, shut up. Pretend you're a guinea pig or something." Tsunade adjusted the dial a minute fraction. "There. That's done it. We're ready." She glared at Kakashi. "Lose the hitai-ate. I need your Sharingan for this. I want you to remember exactly what you see."

Kakashi hesitated. Iruka blinked as Kakashi subjected him to a disturbingly assessing examination. Whatever Kakashi saw, it must have been enough, because finally he sighed and pulled up his hitai-ate. The Sharingan seemed to glow red in the artificial light of the hospital room.

"Iruka-sensei?"

Iruka grinned and brought his hands up. "Oiroke no jutsu!"

The screen exploded with readings.

~oOo~

"Nice henge. We got what we needed." Tsunade finished attaching the electrodes to Iruka's head and placed her hands on his temples. "Now, I'm going to try to mold your chakra to emulate the Sharingan's chakra pattern for memory. Ready?"

Iruka nodded, smirking a bit at Kakashi, who still looked dazed by Iruka's sexy-no-jutsu.

The first stirrings of power felt warm in Iruka's head. Tsunade's chakra gathered his, gently, until a tug made him flinch.

"Relax," she said. "Don't fight it."

Iruka tried not to, but the way his chakra was being shaped felt strange, foreign, familiar yet alien, twisted almost beyond recognition. He breathed deeply to control a feeling of panic, and was distantly aware of Kakashi's sharp, concerned-sounding query and Tsunade's quiet response. The pain spiked; he gasped; and suddenly, the world was bright, and new, and utterly, utterly clear and sharp and focused.

"Your chakra is identical to the chakra displayed by the Sharingan when Kakashi was memorizing your jutsu," he heard Tsunade say. Then, "Iruka-sensei?"

"Mm," he said. The pain was still there, but he ignored it in favor of exploring the hospital room around him.

Tsunade glowed with power, the jeweled seal on her forehead nearly blinding him with the intensity of the densely-packed chakra stored within. Kakashi glowed, too, not as brightly, but with an edge, like a blade hidden in a whisper-thin sheath. Iruka could see the flow of electricity through the equipment, the motes of dust that floated in the air around him, the faint beads of perspiration covering Kakashi's face and dampening his mask.

"Amazing," he breathed.

"How do you feel?" Tsunade demanded.

"Fine. Really. It's just-" He looked at Kakashi. "Show me a new jutsu."

"What?"

"His chakra-" Tsunade warned.

"He has enough," Iruka said. "I can see it. Go on. Show me."

Kakashi frowned, but brought his hands forward and flashed through a complex series of seals, so fast that Iruka knew he'd never have been able to follow them before Tsunade had remolded his chakra.

Iruka smiled as the water from the pitcher on the table beside Kakashi's bed rose, pouring toward Kakashi's hands to take the shape of a small dragon, floating and twisting above Kakashi's palm. Iruka's hands moved, and in an instant, the water flowed from Kakashi's palm to form an identical dragon hovering above Iruka's.

"Impressive." Tsunade's expression was pleased. "How do you feel?"

"It's like..." Iruka frowned. He was looking at nothing, just staring in front of him, but he could see, see Kakashi's movements. "It's images. I can't come up with words for it. I just see it." The clean, skilled, powerful movement of Kakashi's hands continued to flow in front of his eyes, although Kakashi remained still, watching thoughtfully. "It's like my hands were itching to move."

"Eidetic memory is theorized to be an innate ability in all of us. It's strongest when we're children, the images gradually replaced by words and concepts as we mature." Tsunade adjusted the dials again. "Anything else?"

"My thoughts feel edged. Sharp. Clean. Not cluttered."

Kakashi looked startled, but stayed silent.

"Words are complex," Tsunade mused. "Without words, perhaps the image is more powerful, since it's not diluted by the concepts the word carries." She turned to Kakashi. "Does that sound about right?"

He paused, and finally gave a small, curt nod.

Iruka smiled. So that was what Kakashi looked like when someone got the better of him.

~oOo~

"That's my memory you're using."

Iruka looked up from the scroll he was memorizing. Kakashi leaned in the doorway, hands in pockets, looking bored. "Your memory _patterns_," Iruka corrected. He turned back to the scroll.

"You're not tough enough. It's a waste."

Iruka ignored him. Petty son of a bitch.

"But you're pretty when you're a girl. Maybe you should concentrate on jutsu you can use for seduction missions."

Better to fight fire with fire, Iruka reckoned. He didn't bother to stop reading. "It must be tough to face the fact that you won't be so special anymore when even children in the Academy will be able to make memories like the Sharingan does."

When Kakashi remained silent, Iruka looked up. He couldn't place the expression on Kakashi's face, not until Kakashi spoke.

"I wouldn't wish that on a child," he said, his voice soft. "Not even on my worst enemy. Good day, Iruka-sensei."

Iruka stared after him as he disappeared back into the corridor.

Kakashi had looked... haunted.

~oOo~

The day was hot, the wind was non-existent, and Iruka was exhausted.

While his memory was infinitely keener than before, his innate chakra reserves limited the number of jutsu he could perform in one practice session. Iruka's head ached like he'd been knocked across the training field by one of Gai-san's kicks, but, remembering Kakashi's taunt about his strength, he readied himself for another attempt.

"Memorizing jutsu won't help you in the field."

Iruka started and whirled. "Kakashi-sensei!"

Kakashi was slouched against a tree. "A real shinobi wouldn't have been startled."

"I'm in the village," Iruka defended, then sheepishly rubbed his head. "But you're right. I should have been more aware of my surroundings."

Kakashi made a considering noise. "Do you really think you can teach students how to use more jutsu without practicing them in the field yourself?"

As much as Iruka hated to admit it, Kakashi had a point. "Godaime-sama wants me to practice in a controlled environment. She's concerned the memory modification might not be stable enough for the field."

Kakashi lazily pushed off the tree and walked over to Iruka. With as sharp as his gaze was, for once, Iruka felt like the jounin was taking him seriously. "You need a practice partner. And tests." He lifted an eyebrow. "And a hell of a lot more stamina."

Iruka dragged his arm across his brow and nodded. "I've been doing chakra-strengthening exercises. Eventually I'll have more stamina. But I haven't wanted to ask anyone to practice with me – everyone's needed for missions, these days."

"I'm not."

"I beg your pardon?" Iruka dropped his arm and stared.

"I'm not. Needed for missions. At least, not these days."

Iruka shook his head. "You're on medical leave."

"I'm bored."

"You're healing."

"I'm bored."

"You'll slaughter me."

"I'm bored."

The annoying idiot... Iruka laughed. "Okay, I get it."

Kakashi seemed to smile. "Good."

"So... what should we do?"

Though Kakashi didn't move, a wave of intent swept over Iruka, and he was once again reminded of how powerful Kakashi really was. "I want to see how quickly you can learn – and effectively use – a new skill."

"Okay." Whether Kakashi was helping because he was hoping to get back at Iruka for using his memory patterns without permission, or whether he truly was just that bored, it didn't matter. Iruka figured he'd learn something in the process. "Do you have a jutsu to teach me?"

"I've got hundreds." Iruka felt like blushing as Kakashi looked hard at him. "We'll start tomorrow." He turned and started walking away.

"Wait!" Iruka sprang after him. "My chakra's strong enough to keep going today."

"Chakra's not the problem. You're only as strong as your own mind," Kakashi said. "Start thinking tough, Iruka-sensei."

Iruka stopped, blinking, and watched Kakashi walk away. He clenched his jaw. Tough, huh?

Well, Kakashi would see just how tough Iruka was.

~oOo~

Iruka's feet barely touched the limbs of the trees as he flew through the forest, using his chakra to push himself faster, faster, desperate to catch up with the missing nin who had kidnapped two children from the Aburame clan. Gai-san and Raidou raced through the forest beside him, Kakashi and Pakkun ahead, tracking the fugitives.

The past three weeks of training with Kakashi had paid off, and Iruka fervently blessed every taunt Kakashi had made about his students that had ultimately driven Iruka to approach Tsunade-sama. His chakra levels and jutsu skills had soared with the techniques Kakashi had taught him, and he poured every bit of it into his pursuit of the enemy nin.

Kakashi suddenly halted on a branch and raised his hand in the signal for 'enemy near.' Iruka dropped silently to a branch, Gai and Raidou not far away.

A whisper to his left was all the warning Iruka had of the attack. He curled under the kunai swipe, pulled his own kunai, and dropped to a lower limb. Before he could dodge, a heavy weight slammed into him; he thrust upward and felt his kunai slide through flesh, and a shower of hot blood.

He froze.

The weight that had hit him was too light to be the enemy nin. A child screamed as he straightened.

"Iruka-sensei."

He glanced down at the whisper, and met Aburame Mai's wide, frightened, eyes. At first, his heart leapt: his kunai had sliced someone else.

Then she coughed, and blood and kikaichuu began to pour from her throat.

"Watch out!"

Iruka dropped to curl over Mai protectively, her warm blood pouring through his hands as he tried to apply pressure to slow the flow. He formed a ball of chakra around his hand, breathing deep and focusing its energy to heal rent flesh.

_"I learned this from Sakura. It only works if your focus is absolute."_

And, amazingly, with his enhanced memory, his focus _was_ absolute. He could feel how the chakra formed, could swear he even saw Mai's cells regenerating, felt the slight rise in temperature as the blood flow increased to deliver renewed energy. Around him he could hear a battle raging, but he ignored it, pouring all of his energy into healing the clean slice to Mai's carotid artery.

He worked until Kakashi's hand fell on his shoulder.

"Iruka-sensei. Enough."

He ignored Kakashi. Just a little more...

"She's gone."

...a little more...

"Iruka!" Kakashi yanked him away from Mai, and Iruka's focus broke, he could see again, the emptiness in Mai's eyes, the cascade of blood that soaked her, him, the branch on which they were perched, the dead and dying kikaichuu in the slowly congealing mess, the pale, bloody, delicate insides of Mai's neck, which no one should have ever seen-

Pain exploded in his cheek and Iruka landed on his back, instinctively using his chakra to stick to the limb. He looked up at Kakashi and put a hand to his face.

"Get up."

Beyond Kakashi, Raidou was gathering up Mai's body.

"Be careful," Iruka said. She was so small. "Don't hurt her."

Raidou glanced at him, face impassive, but his hands gentled as he cradled the child's body.

"I don't smell any more enemies, boss," Pakkun's gruff voice rumbled from behind Iruka.

Gai landed nearby. "I've examined the bodies. The enemy appears to have been originally from Hidden Rock."

"They must have known the Kamizuru clan." Kakashi grabbed Iruka's elbow and hauled him to his feet; Iruka grabbed the tree trunk to steady himself. "They were trying to steal kids with kikaichuu. Gai, scout around the area and guard our rear. Raidou, can you handle both of the bodies?"

Both.

Oh, god. Both children, dead.

Iruka's knees crumbled, but Kakashi's iron grip held him upright, fingers digging deep into Iruka's arm.

"Yeah," Raidou said. With another glance at Iruka, he leapt from the branch.

"Pakkun, tell the Hokage that we're returning." Pakkun disappeared in a puff, and Kakashi finally turned to Iruka, shaking his arm hard. "Get a grip, Iruka-sensei," Kakashi said, his voice low. "You were meant to think it was an attack. It could have been any of us."

"Would you have reacted without looking?" Iruka felt utterly hollow. He stared at his bloody hands. "Would you have delivered a blind killing blow?"

"Yes," Kakashi said. "Otherwise, I'd be dead hundreds of times over."

Iruka finally met Kakashi's eyes. They were hard, old beyond Kakashi's years.

"What am I going to tell her parents?"

"The truth." Kakashi released his arm. "You'll find the details are easy with a memory like ours."

He disappeared, and left Iruka staring blankly at the place where he'd been.

~oOo~

"How much sleep are you getting?"

Tsunade-sama's eyes were sharp as she waited for Iruka to answer.

"I'm getting the required amount, Hokage-sama," he said calmly. She didn't need to know that it was riddled with nightmares about Mai's empty eyes.

"Hmm." She peered into his eyes. "Don't bother to lie. It doesn't work with me."

Iruka smiled. "Of course not, Hokage-sama."

"And stop parroting my title at me." She taped several electrodes to his head. "I want to see how the jutsu is holding."

Iruka could have told her it was holding fine. Not a detail of his mistake had faded, the horror, the denial that Mai's life was bleeding out through his hands... fresh. All of it, fresh. Fresh as the feel of Tsunade-sama's chakra flowing through him as she monitored his brainwaves and he waited for her to confirm he'd turned into a monster, and was no longer safe to those he loved and wanted to protect.

"Your chakra has settled," she said, staring at the screen. "It looks like your body is well on its way to accepting the Sharingan patterns. If this works, Iruka-sensei, we'll need to keep this top secret, you know. The advantage something like this gives us would be enormous."

_This was my idea to begin with._ Iruka consciously unclenched his fist, trying to appear relaxed. _I wanted this._

"It has drawbacks, too," he said.

"The headaches?"

_Among others._ Iruka nodded.

"How bad are they?"

He hesitated. "Almost constant," he admitted.

"Does this help?"

A bit of the pressure receded with Tsunade's touch, but the bladed edge of pain remained. Iruka suspected it had more to do with his mind processing so much, sometimes more than he remembered seeing until he found each memory so sharp and detailed, it was as if he could be sucked deep into the rough bark of a tree, or the stamens of a flower, or the individual strands of silver hair jutting over Kakashi-sensei's hitai-ate.

"Iruka-sensei?"

"My apologies, Tsunade-sama. Yes, that helps. Thank you."

"You didn't attend the Aburame funerals."

"I doubt they'd have been very happy if I had."

She sighed in acknowledgment. "It was an unfortunate accident."

"Mai was in her first year at the Academy," he said, quietly. "I think she was the most out-going Aburame I've ever met."

"Do you need more counseling?"

Iruka shook his head. "No. I know it wasn't my fault. But that doesn't make me feel any better."

Tsunade didn't reply, and they were both silent as she continued with her exam. When she did speak, her voice was uncharacteristically quiet. "I'm putting you on leave."

Iruka looked away and nodded. _That confirms it. I'm a monster. _He'd tried to prepare himself, but he still felt as if he'd been kicked in the stomach. "Do you want me to report to the holding facility?"

Tsunade paused. "What?"

"I'm dangerous," Iruka said. He was proud of himself: his voice remained steady. "I've been training with Kakashi-sensei, and I've learned too much. I'm only a chuunin, after all. My judgment is suspect."

She snorted. "I don't know why you're teaching. You're an idiot." She cuffed him across the back of his head. "You're not dangerous. In fact, you're welcome to apply to participate in the next jounin exam, if you like."

Iruka rubbed his head and felt a trickle of hope. "Then why are you putting me on leave?"

"Your body is adjusting to the new chakra patterns in your brain, but your ability to process the information is overloading your cognitive functions. I think that's what's causing your headaches." She unhooked Iruka from the machine. "I want you to take a break from learning and teaching for a few days. Let your mind catch up to your head."

"But," Iruka was confused, "what do you want me to do instead?"

"I don't care," she said, waving her hand dismissively and shooing Iruka out the door. "Find a hobby of some sort. Fish. Camp. Collect buttons. Whatever. Just stop learning jutsu and teaching kids for a week."

~oOo~

_Hardly a breath, and then the attack, weight hitting him solidly in the back, his chakra ready and already absorbing the force of the blow, his hand gripping his kunai for a throat kill and sweeping back, without thought, without planning, just pure, instinctive will to live and the body memory of a thousand practices, the give of flesh to the blade and the far off screaming of a child, all of it right, textbook right and he was alive but it was wrong, wrong—_

_Sunglasses, one lens shattered, teetered on the edge of the branch, fell, and there was blood on them and her eyes, he was never supposed to see an Aburame's eyes, green as the forest around them, as the leaves she lay upon, fear and pleading and the shock of betrayal fading from her gaze as her body bled and bled and bled and bled. He tried to catch the blood, buried his fingers deep in her neck against the open artery, so warm and slippery but the blood just kept escaping, he wasn't good enough and the blood just kept flowing and kikaichuu dripped from her eyes like tears. A droplet hit the leaves beneath her, drowning an ant and sending it after the glasses, and now her eyes were glass because he'd killed her, his student, and the last thing she'd ever said was his name, one word spilling dozens of words into the silence, asking him to help her, asking her to tell him she wasn't dead, asking to live and run and play samurai and ninja with her friends and bump into her sensei on the street—_

"No!" He bolted upright, teeth chattering, the taste of bitter guilt coppery like blood in his mouth, because he was safe in his bed while Mai slept in her grave.

Iruka put his head between his knees, hugged himself, took deep, measured breaths and tried to think of nothing. Each time the memory hit him, it was as vivid as the actual moment itself. There had to be some way of suppressing it, because if he couldn't escape it soon-

He refused to think about what would happen then.

Eventually, he got up to change the sweat-soaked sheets for the third time that night.

~oOo~

Iruka found himself frustrated – deeply frustrated – by Tsunade's edict against learning new techniques and teaching. How did a shinobi not do what he was trained and conditioned to do practically since birth? Besides, it kept him from thinking about…

He decided to work on his taijutsu.

He was on his second day of legwork when Kakashi wandered by.

"That post appears to be beating you."

Ignoring Kakashi, Iruka continued to pound the post with a triple leg combo, noting where each foot connected and adjusting minutely. Even though he was starting to hate having it, there was no doubt that the eidetic memory was invaluable for improving his skills.

"Reading porn helps."

"Helps what?" Iruka switched to a flying combo and was thrown back by the impact. He winced; clearly, he needed to work more on it. Twenty reps, then.

"Involuntary recall."

Iruka impacted, rebounded and whirled to a stop, hand on the ground to steady himself. He looked at Kakashi in shock. "What? You, too?"

Kakashi shrugged. "Eidetic memory. Though only when I'm using the Sharingan."

Thinking of the times during which Kakashi would use the Sharingan, Iruka felt a cold shiver down his back. He stood. "How bad?"

He received a sharp look for the question, but Kakashi's voice was casual. "Pretty much constant."

Iruka closed his eyes and dropped his head. Fuck. He'd hoped it might fade after he got used to it.

"You need to figure out what distracts you best."

Great. Would there be two porn-reading shinobi wandering the streets of Konoha? He wondered what other distraction options there were. It would have to be something pretty powerful to offset the images that even now were fighting for domination of his attention.

"Why didn't you protest more when Tsunade and I told you what we wanted to do?"

Kakashi looked thoughtful. "Tsunade had already made up her mind."

Iruka snorted. "You could have persuaded her. And if you'd wanted privacy to discuss your concerns, she'd have kicked me out in a second. Now, what's the real reason?"

This time, Kakashi hesitated. "I wanted to see if someone else could handle it better than I can," he finally admitted.

Oh, fucking hell. Iruka's heart sank. He'd felt so smug besting the great Sharingan no Kakashi, when all along, he'd been Kakashi's secret guinea pig.

The thing was, Iruka could understand Kakashi's motive for allowing the experiment. If he'd been in Kakashi's position – the only person carrying this burden left in Konoha – would he have stopped an experiment that would have given someone else an understanding of the cost of having memories like those created by the Sharingan? He thought of Kakashi's isolation, and knew he wouldn't have. "Thanks for helping me."

A flush spread across Kakashi's visible cheek. "I'm not helping you any more than I'm helping myself," he pointed out.

"Mmm." Maybe not, but Iruka suspected that without Kakashi's help, this ability would likely drive him to madness. Maybe it still would. "I'm going to tell Tsunade-sama that this was a mistake. It won't work for children."

Kakashi nodded. "It's a start, though. Maybe she can help you to find a way to block the memories you don't want."

Implying that she hadn't been able to do the same for Kakashi. "What happened when she tried with you?"

Kakashi held up his book. "When I first received the Sharingan, she suggested sex might be a distraction. It was the best she, Jiraiya and my sensei could come up with."

"Jiraiya's first book didn't have sex in it," Iruka realized. He looked at Kakashi. "He wrote all of those Icha Ichas because of you?"

"He was a connoisseur of sex," Kakashi said, straightening from his slouch. "It doesn't matter why he wrote them. The books are a testament to a great man."

_Who wrote porn to help out his student's student._ Iruka smiled. "Find a distraction, huh?"

Kakashi nodded. "I suspect it will need to be primal – sex, food, shelter. That's what worked for me."

Iruka thought about that. Maybe Kakashi was right. But maybe... Kakashi had been a child when he'd received his Sharingan, and had no clan support for dealing with it, if rumors were true. Maybe Tsunade had thought, back then, that only basic survival concepts held enough power for a young mind, still developing, to fight the nightmares. Especially since they'd been at war at the time, and they wouldn't have had the resources to take an experienced fighter – no matter how young – off the field to deal with nightmares that likely everyone else had, too.

But Kakashi wasn't the only person to have the Sharingan back then. Maybe the Uchihas' focus on rules and policing, and their fierce ability to control their emotions, had been a more sophisticated approach to dealing with the burden of carrying Sharingan memories.

The trouble was, he wasn't interested in losing himself in a rule-oriented role, or in cutting off his emotions. Nor did he want to start reading bad porn in public.

No, he'd have to find his own way. "Why didn't Tsunade-sama talk to me about this?"

"Did you tell her what it's like?"

No. He hadn't. Maybe that was what she'd meant this leave to accomplish – either he'd find a way to deal with the memories, or he'd break down enough for her to step in and help. She was notorious for her unconventional methods. And now that he thought of it, she'd told him to find a hobby...

It must have cost Kakashi something to have voluntarily talked to him about such deeply private experiences. He looked up, but Kakashi was leaving. "Thanks," he said to Kakashi's back.

"You need to rotate your hips more on the final follow-through," Kakashi replied, and wandered away, reading.

~oOo~

The face staring back at him from the mirror was haggard, dark eyes sunken from lack of sleep. The hand holding the razor trembled, but Iruka pulled on his meager reserves, steadied himself, and began to shave.

Five days into his leave. His body ached from the taijutsu. Worse, the physical effort wasn't as strong a deterrent to his memories as it had been the first couple of days, before he'd settled into perfecting the body memory of each move.

But his imagination was the worst. Even waking, Mai's eyes were all he could see.

He needed to find a distraction. Desperate, he'd tried reading porn, but the juxtaposition of the sex acts and the image of a bleeding, dying child made him ill, and he'd ended up throwing the book across the room.

Sex was out. That left food and shelter.

He was pretty sure that food wouldn't be an appropriate drive to distract him; he was so constantly nauseated by his visions that he was sure he'd end up vomiting, just stepping into a kitchen. He supposed he could go into the forest and try to become a hermit, or build a cabin or something, but he craved the presence of other people. Sane, normal people. People with living eyes.

Bile rose in his mouth; he swallowed it down.

Even living just outside the gates felt akin to a death sentence. No. There had to be another way.

Iruka splashed water on his face to clean away the last of his shaving cream, rinsed his razor – ignoring its edge, so bright and sharp – and picked up a towel. As he blotted his face dry, he gave thought to what else he could do to counter the memories.

If he was any good at researching – or had anything he really wanted to research – it might be okay. Learning a new profession might help, but honestly, the only thing he'd ever been even mildly interested in was medicine, and there was no way in hell he was going to work in the midst of injured and dying friends and comrades with the Sharingan memory. He liked teaching, but suspected he might be ruined for it now. He'd always been able to push the thought of his students dying out of his mind when he was in the classroom, telling himself he was making sure they were as prepared as he could make them for their missions once they left the Academy, but that would feel like a lie, now. Perhaps he could learn to make weapons, apprentice to one of the sword-makers in the village…

He looked at his razor again. No. On second thought, it didn't seem wise to expose himself to that kind of temptation.

But even though he was battling to survive, he forced himself to consider the possibility of taking his own life. Suicide seemed like a viable solution. But he really didn't want to die, not that way. He thought of Kakashi's tendency to take missions that would kill another shinobi, and bit his lip.

No. He wasn't like Kakashi. To expose himself, again and again, to assignments consisting of assassination and death – he'd be better off giving himself a quick, clean death and not risk the possibility that he would go mad during an assignment and have to be put down like a rabid dog.

_Mai without her sunglasses, the deep green of her eyes, pupils dilated as she gasped for air and bled out…_

He closed his eyes.

Meditation. He'd never been much for it, too impatient. All he'd ever learned had been the bare minimum needed to center his chakra in battle. But maybe he could find a sensei, look for a dojo that specialized in meditation. Maybe it would give him the strength he'd need to live with an eidetic memory.

Even if he'd never particularly liked it, meditation appealed a bit more than suicide. He could give it a try, at least.

Dropping his towel into the sink, Iruka went to his futon and sat down, assuming the lotus position. He took deep, calming breaths and tried to empty his mind.

_...kikaichuu, pouring out, so many that Mai's blood moved like it had a life of its own…_

Iruka gasped and tried to still his pounding heart. Assuming the position again, he attempted to push all thoughts from his consciousness…

_...his fingers, sinking into her neck as he applied pressure…_  
He broke form, pitched forward, and vomited. His heaves brought up nothing but mucus.

When he finished, he rolled away from the mess and willed himself not to weep. Remember... remember something else. What had it been like, those first few moments of his new memory? He'd been so thrilled, had seen so deeply, had taken everything in with nothing more than a glance. He'd felt as if he would finally be the shinobi he'd always dreamed he could be…

_"...start thinking tough, Iruka-sensei…"_

Iruka pushed Kakashi's voice away. He tried to concentrate on what he'd felt when Tsunade had finished shaping his chakra. The hope, the joy, the knowledge he could see more clearly than he'd ever seen, the glory of learning new jutsu and of actually gaining the strength to stand up to Hatake Kakashi's attacks as they trained together, the pride he'd felt for being teamed with Gai, and Raidou, and Kakashi, the determination to bring the children back safely…

_...the kunai sunk into flesh, blood sprayed the leaves in front of him, knocking the ant to follow Mai's sunglasses to the forest floor…_

Iruka buried his face in his pillow to stifle his sob. No good, it wasn't enough, it wasn't working…

He could see too much. He needed to see something new.

He opened his eyes to the warp and weft of the pillowcase, and allowed himself to get lost in the individual strands of cotton forming each tender, fragile thread.

~oOo~

He dreamt of the smell of aftershave, of flying through the air, of a voice that said, "Hold on, damn you, hold on…"

Of Mai's eyes.

He let himself sink again, and welcomed the darkness.

~oOo~

The first thing that Iruka was aware of was the stench of antiseptic, followed closely by the scratch of starched cloth against his body and the sound of a heart monitor.

He groaned and opened his eyes.

The hospital room looked strange, like it was blurred. He tried to raise a hand to his eyes, and heard Tsunade-sama mutter, "Finally," then say in a louder voice, "Wake up, Iruka-sensei. I need to do some tests."

"'m awake," he said. Someone pushed his hand down.

"Not entirely, but as long as you can understand me, I don't care." He blinked as Tsunade leaned in and shone a light in his eyes. "What do you remember?"

Iruka grimaced. "About what?"

"Mm, not surprising," he heard her say under her breath. She spoke again. "How about, 'what's the last thing you remember?'"

"Home." He tried to collect his thoughts. "Shaving."

"You had a dissociative episode," Tsunade said. "I used to see them fairly often in the Uchiha clan."

"Dis- what? Damn, my head hurts." He tried to lift his hand again, but someone held his arm firm. He tried to twist to see who was holding him, but his body refused to respond.

"It means you went bye-bye."

Kakashi? Why was he here? "Where'd I go?"

"Away," Tsunade said. "Somewhere in your mind. Your brain patterns began to destabilize. It was just a matter of time before you shut yourself down permanently. You're lucky Kakashi got you here when he did."

Memory seeped back, just a puddle, but enough. "I couldn't handle it," he whispered. "I'm too damned weak to handle it."

"None of that. Now, listen to me." Tsunade glared at him. "Strength doesn't matter. Your body started rejecting the Sharingan memory jutsu. In order to keep you from dying, I excised the jutsu and restored your former chakra routes."

Fine. Whatever. What did she know, anyway? "Everything's fuzzy," he complained.

"There's some swelling, which is having secondary effects on your eyesight. Things will clear up in a few days' time."

He blinked, so very tired.

"It's going to take some time before the restoration heals completely. You may have some short-term memory problems until then."

"Sleep." It wasn't good to ignore the Hokage, right? But hell, he was warning her. She'd have to deal with it. "Now."

Tsunade sighed. "Fine. Brat."

Iruka closed his eyes.

~oOo~

The next time Iruka woke, things were clearer.

"Oh, damn," he groaned, draping his arm over his head. "My head hurts." The rattle of pills in a cup made him peek out. "Kakashi-sensei?"

"That's Nurse Kakashi-sensei to you," Kakashi retorted. He handed Iruka the pills, then offered him a cup of water. "Here. She told me to make sure you took these, or else she'll off us both."

Iruka took the pills, then handed Kakashi the empty water cup. "Why are you here?"

Kakashi smiled the smile that Iruka had always suspected was fake. "To give you your medicine."

"Given." He closed his eyes and waited to hear Kakashi leave the room. When he heard no such thing, he opened his eyes again and sighed. "What now?"

"A little history lesson." Kakashi sat on the edge of Iruka's bed. "I don't suppose you remember Tsunade telling you that you don't have the Sharingan memory any more, do you?"

Iruka vaguely remembered something like that. "A little. Why?"

"It happened to some of the Uchihas, too. Rarely, but enough that any Konoha medical nin would recognize the signs. You rejected the Sharingan pattern."

"What?" Iruka started to sit up, but quickly thought the better of it. "But Tsunade-sama said my body had integrated it—"

"It had. But your mind hadn't. So your body rejected it."

"Oh." He sighed. "The whole thing was a failure, then."

"Well, I wouldn't say that. A fair number of Uchihas suffered the same thing, and lost their Sharingans before they'd fully formed. Based on the clan records I've read, I'd guess that you'll still retain fairly clear memories of the time you had it."

He shivered. "What if I don't want them?"

Kakashi stiffened beside him, his tension bleeding through the blankets. "They won't go away," he said after a moment. "They'll always be with you. I tell myself it's a way of respecting their sacrifice, in the end." He abruptly stood and took the chair next to the bed.

No child should have had to sacrifice her life like that. "I was losing it. I thought I should go away, to keep the rest safe," Iruka tried to explain. "But I didn't want to leave."

"Tsunade said those pills would put you back to sleep pretty quickly," was all the reply he got.

Kakashi was right. He was tired. "You can go. I'm fine here on my own."

"I'll stick around, I think," Kakashi said, taking the familiar orange book from his pocket. "It's quiet."

_You obviously don't want to talk any more. But you don't seem to want to leave, either. _Iruka gave in. "Fine. You can stay. But nobody will look for you, here."

"Exactly."

Iruka rolled so he faced away from Kakashi, and felt oddly comforted. He buried his head in his pillow, and slept.

~oOo~

Iruka finished buttoning his shirt, and reached for his hitai-ate.

The world was less bright, his thoughts less sharp. He could recall what it had felt like, having a mind that could process everything at once and remember it forever. The Sharingan memory, that had sliced him open and broken him.

He crossed over to the window of his hospital room, tying his hitai-ate around his forehead. Kakashi was leaning against the window frame, looking outside as he waited for Iruka to finish dressing. Iruka joined him.

The village looked normal, the same roads, the same people, the same markets that he'd known since he was a child. He kept his question soft. "Why am I mourning something I'd come to hate so badly?"

"A kunai cuts both ways."

Iruka silently agreed.

"It's a rush, every time I use the Sharingan," Kakashi said, not taking his eyes from the scene in front of them. "I never feel quite alive any other time. It's like a drug I have to control."

"Now I know why the Uchiha are so prone to madness," Iruka replied. He turned away from the window and leaned against the wall next to Kakashi, carefully not looking at him. "With all of the emotional and psychological burdens that Sasuke bore, once his Sharingan awoke - everything must have multiplied. Every detail, every fight, every struggle, burned into his memory, played over and over..." He closed his eyes. "I've seen it, you know. How you feel about him. Don't blame yourself. He never stood a chance."

"Even the Uchiha don't use the Sharingan constantly, not like your experience with Sharingan memory," Kakashi replied. "A lesser man would have gone mad long ago."

Iruka laughed bitterly. He didn't need pity. "You don't have to try to make me feel better, Kakashi-sensei. I know my limits." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kakashi turn to look at him.

"Kakashi," he said.

Iruka met his gaze defiantly. "What?"

"Kakashi. Not Kakashi-sensei."

Iruka's heart thudded hard, once, and he could feel the slight flush of shame warming his face. It wasn't pity Kakashi had offered. It was understanding. "Kakashi," he said after a moment. Then, "How do you bear it?"

"I read porn. I indulge in inappropriate humor. I follow Gai like a starving dog." His voice was as bitter as Iruka's had been.

"Don't," Iruka said, suddenly angry, realizing why Kakashi was such unlikely friends with Gai. Gai must have known that Kakashi needed an anchor, and had devised those ridiculous contests to lure Kakashi out of the dark places of his mind. How could all the rest of them have been so blind, when Gai obviously saw so clearly? "Don't put yourself down like that. If I'd known—"

"You'd have pitied me."

He was right. "I don't pity you now," was all he could offer.

"I know. Iruka."

Iruka's anger melted. Kakashi had offered himself as an equal. They didn't know each other very well, but he suspected they knew each other better than anyone else ever would. "You could help me in the classroom every once in a while." He looked up at Kakashi, and saw his lips curl into a smile under the mask.

"You just want to get out of your duties."

"Busted. Though it would do you good," Iruka added. He punched Kakashi lightly in the shoulder. "Ichiraku?"

"Are you paying?"

Iruka rolled his eyes. "You're the jounin. I'm just a teacher."

"But you're the one asking me on a date."

"It's not a date!" Iruka protested. "You ass. For that, you pay."

"Why can't it be a date? I still remember your sexy-no-jutsu-"

"Pervert. Okay, that makes two meals you owe me."

"Fine." Kakashi looped Iruka's arm through the crook of his elbow. "We'll ask for their honeymoon special. Come with me, dear."

Laughing, Iruka did.

_~fin~_


End file.
